


The Elvis Presley Murder

by allysonandrews1982 (FonzFan82)



Category: Happy Days, Real Person Fiction, Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Murder, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-07 19:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 12,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FonzFan82/pseuds/allysonandrews1982
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day Chachi is involved with murder that involves the famous singer, Elvis Presley. Would he be able to solve his second case? Find out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy this new crossover but it's old to me since I've never gotten around to finishing it. It was also a few of my first Happy Days and Scooby Doo crossovers when I first got into writing. Back then I didn't even know what fanfiction was or even heard of it or that I was writing it but enjoy and comment! Warning: too many characters!

“He’s almost finished with his cold case he’s been working on for three years, which we’re all happy about. Then he’ll be doing other cases for the Roper law firm after this cold case is closed,” Richie told Lori Beth. 

When Richie, Lori Beth and the children were at his parents’ house for dinner the next day, they invited Ralph and his wife, Karen for dinner also, along with the Whitehorses, and Fonzie. Joanie and Chachi were also there themselves. Chachi was in high spirits that night. He was in such a good mood that he couldn’t sit still.

“Chachi, tell everyone the good news,” Joanie said.

“I’m going to, but I want to wait until we’re eating,” he said, still smiling. 

“What kind of news is this, Chachi?” Fonzie asked.

“You’ll find out, Fonz,” he said, the smile still on his face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a good mood like this since you two started dating,” Richie told Chachi.

“It’s good news,” Chachi said. 

“Is it something to do about your relationship?” Mr. Cunningham asked. 

“No, Mr. C., nothing to do with my and Joanie’s relationship. It’s something else,” Chachi said, still happy about what happened in the courthouse that day. 

Joanie was with him when he was in the courthouse.

They decided to eat first, then let Chachi spread out his good news. He couldn’t wait any longer to tell everyone at once about his cold case being solved. After the meal was passed around the table, Chachi stood up to spread out the good news. 

“Listen up, everyone! I’m going to say this one time only. The news is that I, Chachi Arcola, have solved the counterfeit money cold case after three years,” Chachi said.

Fonzie was happy to hear that news. 

“What did I tell you, Chachi? Not to give up on that case, huh?” Fonzie asked. 

“Yeah, Fonz. I did want to give up on that case for so many times every year, but I listened to you. Now I can do other cases for the firm, since they wanted me there,” Chachi said. 

He told them how he solved the case and everyone asked questions and he answered them, including the Whitehorses and Fonzie. 

“Your first case solved, Chachi. I bet the media’s talking about it,” Richie said. 

“I don’t know. We’ll find out,” he said.

“You better tell Fred, Chachi,” Fonzie said. 

“I think I’d better. He was the one who gave me the job,” Chachi said. 

“Who’s Fred?” Mona asked, who was listening. 

“Fred Jones is our cousin, but he used to solve mysteries with a group of friends and had a dog help them solve the cases,” Fonzie told them. 

“I think we know who you’re talking about. Is he still doing that?” Koko asked. 

“No. Retired,” Chachi said. 

“He went to being a private investigator after the group couldn’t solve any more mysteries,” Fonzie said. 

The Whitehorses were impressed to hear that.

When Fonzie and Chachi had to leave at 9:00 that night, he went to Fonzie’s apartment that was over the Cunninghams’ garage. They made the phone call to Fred. 

“Go call him, Chachi,” Fonzie said. 

“Where is he? Do you know?” Chachi asked. 

Fonzie told him.


	2. Chapter 2

Fred was with Daphne and Shaggy, since Velma was married to Potsie. Chachi knew the number, so he dialed it. The phone rang a couple times before someone picked it up.

“Hi, Shaggy. This is Chachi. Is Fred there?” Chachi asked. 

“One minute. Fred!” Shaggy called from the bottom of the stairs. 

Fred opened the door. 

“Yeah!” 

“Phone.”

Fred picked up the phone upstairs because he didn’t want Daphne and Shaggy to hear the conversation.

Shaggy hung up the phone in the kitchen. 

“Hello?” Fred said when he picked up. 

“Hi, Fred. Guess what happened today?” Chachi asked. 

“Hi, Chachi. What did happen today?” Fred asked his cousin.

“I solved that counterfeit money cold case today,” Chachi said. 

“That’s great, Chachi. I’m proud of you. Let’s go out tomorrow and you, Fonzie, and I can celebrate. That case took what, five years to crack?” Fred asked. 

“No. Three.” 

“Wow. Now you can solve other cases like I did.”

“Yeah. Now I can do cases that I’m working for the firm that your daughter has.”

“Right on. I’ll call you tomorrow and the three of us can spend the day celebrating,” Fred said. 

“Okay!” Chachi said and they got off the phone after saying good - bye.

“What does Fred say about this mystery you solved?” Fonzie asked Chachi. 

“He says the three of us are going to spend tomorrow celebrating,” Chachi said. 

“Well, it’s Saturday, so I’m off,” Fonzie said, knowing his work schedule.


	3. Chapter 3

They turned on the 9:00 news and the media was talking about the cold case and Elvis’s heart attack.

“What is this heart attack about that Elvis had, Fonz?” Chachi asked. 

“I don’t know. This is new news to me, Chachi,” Fonzie said. 

They sat down on the couch and listened to what they were saying about the heart attack. 

“Maybe Richie knows something about the heart attack that we don’t,” Chachi said. 

“He might. He’s a reporter,” Fonzie agreed.

Fonzie called Richie and Lori Beth’s house the next morning and asked Richie all sorts of questions about Elvis’s heart attack. Richie told him everything. Fonzie didn’t like that.

“Elvis is cool, Richie. He should go back to touring. What have they said about his music career for right now?” Fonzie asked.

“I haven’t heard anything about that lately, Fonz. Once I do hear something, I’ll let you know and you’ll be the first to hear about it,” Richie said.

Fonzie gave Chachi the details on the heart attack what Richie told him.

“Wow. Scary, Fonz. Hope that doesn’t happen to us,” he said. 

He asked Fonzie if Elvis was going back to that year tour. 

“He hasn’t heard anything yet, but when he does, we’ll be the first to know,” Fonzie said. 

“Fred, who called last night?” Daphne asked him.

“Chachi. He wanted to let me know that he solved the case he had been working on for so long. Today, he, Fonzie, and I are going out to celebrate because of that case,” Fred said. 

“That does call for a celebration,” Daphne said.


	4. Chapter 4

On Monday, Chachi told Kylie and Patsy that he could start solving cases for them now because his was just solved after three long years. 

“That’s good to hear, Mr. Arcola. They were talking about that case on the news Friday. Great job,” Kylie said and gave him his paycheck.

“Thanks,” he said, feeling good about his case he did. 

“When I’m done with this job, you can get started on a new case,” Kylie said. 

“Okay. Sounds fine with me,” Chachi said.


	5. Chapter 5

Richie was on the crime scene of Elvis’s death the next day, and so was Chachi.

“Your job is news, Richie. You know what mine is,” Chachi said.

“I know,” Richie said. 

The suspect’s name was Timothy Blake, age thirty - nine, visiting from Oregon, weighed at 147 pounds, date of birth was March sixteenth of 1975. He was a carpenter, divorced twice, had five children from the first marriage, but no children from the second marriage. First wife’s name was Suzanne and she worked as a cashier at Albertsons. His first son, Christopher is thirteen, like Lisa Marie and still in school. Child number two, whose name is Katherina and is two years younger than Christopher, and is a genius in school, and wishes to be a scientist when she grows up. The third oldest, Andrew, is three years younger than the older two and loves to play basketball and wants to be on the Utah Jazz team.

The next oldest child, Heather, is two years younger than Andrew and hates school. The last child is named Alexander. He is the second smartest in the family and loves to read and is in the church choir. Timothy’s second wife is named Beatrice and she is thirty - four years old and is a movie director and maybe will direct a movie with Ron Howard someday.


	6. Chapter 6

Sheriff Jackson, who was working on Elvis’s death, was looking over his notes on the suspect. He was feeling sorry for Elvis’s family. He had heard that Elvis’s two cousins had died earlier that year, but a week apart. He had heard that Elvis had a heart attack later that year. He made a phone call to Elvis’s doctor, who was Dr. King. The receptionist told Dr. King that Sheriff Jackson was on the phone and wanted to speak to him about Elvis. Dr. King picked up the phone in his office to make it private.

“My receptionist says you wanted to speak to me about Elvis Presley, Sheriff. What questions can I answer for you?” Dr. King asked.

“First of all, Dr., I want you to know that Mr. Presley isn’t your patient anymore,” Sheriff Jackson told him.

“Of course he’s my patient, Sheriff. He’s been my patient for twenty years I started my practice. I bet you probably heard about that heart attack he had,” Dr. King said. 

“Yes, I have. Through rumors,” Sheriff Jackson said.

“I can’t talk for long, Sheriff. I have a patient coming in twenty minutes,” Dr. King said, “and that’s Elvis.” 

“No, he’s not seeing you anymore, Dr. To tell the truth, he died last night three hours before he was supposed to come home,” Sheriff Jackson said. 

“I don’t understand, Sheriff. He was doing fine since I gave him that surgery for that heart attack,” Dr. King said.

“I’ll tell you why he died, Dr. I’m working on the case right now, but the reason he’s dead is because he was taking a walk like his wife told him to and a reckless driver came along and didn’t see him there, and Elvis died in the middle of the road,” Sheriff Jackson said. 

“You mean Elvis was walking in the middle of the road? Was he watching were he was going?” Dr. King asked.

“We don’t know that, Dr. There were no witnesses between Elvis and the driver,” the sheriff said. 

The doctor asked the sheriff what the time of death was. 

“Well, he was out on the walk at seven, so the driver must have been out like ten o’clock and he must have killed Elvis half an hour later or an hour later or something like that, but I don’t have the sheet in front of me at the moment, but that’s what we’re talking about at the moment. We’re probably guessing he died three hours after he took the walk. He was heading home when he died,” Sheriff Jackson told Dr. King.

“Did this suspect have any guns with him?” Dr. King asked. 

“That’s what we’re trying to find out for ourselves, Barry. Since there were no witnesses during this crime, we can’t answer any questions you’re asking,” Sheriff Jackson said. 

“Guess not, since nobody was there to watch the crime scene.” Dr. King asked if Priscilla knew about Elvis’s death. 

“She does, because I sent one of my deputies over to Graceland to tell Priscilla, and she broke into tears, and so did Lisa Marie. The deputy overheard Priscilla tell Lisa that she wasn’t going to school for awhile.”


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Chachi and Richie were in their hotel room three blocks away from the crime scene. 

“Richie, I want to go back to Garfield Avenue. I think I found something yesterday that the police didn’t see,” Chachi said.

“All right. We’ll go in a couple minutes. What did you spot?” Richie asked him. 

“I’m not sure. That’s why I want to go back,” Chachi said. 

“Okay. We’ll go back there. Does it have something to do with Elvis’s death?” Richie asked. 

“Yes, Richie.” 

“You might have found a clue that the police must have missed unless they found it,” Richie said. 

“I might. I don’t know what it is,” Chachi said as he and Richie got into Richie’s car and drove off to Garfield Avenue.

Richie parked two blocks in front of Garfield Avenue and they walked to Garfield Avenue. They saw the police put the crime scene tape in the middle of the street where Elvis was killed. Richie and Chachi heard one of the doors open from one of the houses. A woman came out from one of the houses and came to Richie and Chachi. Chachi found some tire tracks that were from the crime scene tape. She called Richie’s name. 

“You’re Richard Cunningham, aren’t you?” the woman asked. 

“Yes, I am, ma’am,” Richie said, wondering what she wanted.

“I read your column every week. Can I have your autograph?” she asked. 

Richie gave her his autograph. 

“What’s your name, ma’am?” Richie asked before he gave her the autograph.

“Suzanne Coleman.” Mrs. Coleman asked him what he was doing out in Memphis.

 

“Business. The newspaper said I could bring a friend, so that’s why he’s here as well,” Richie said, meaning Chachi. 

“What kind of car killed Elvis Presley, Mrs. Coleman?” Richie asked her. 

“I wouldn’t know. I heard he was killed, but I was out to dinner with my husband when he was killed,” Suzanne said. 

“Richie, come here. I found a clue,” Chachi said, waving Richie over. 

“What’s that? Did the police miss something?” Richie asked, coming over to where Chachi was.

“I don’t know if the sheriff’s office missed it or not, but these are tire tracks,” Chachi said. 

“Hey, hey, you did find something. Is that why you wanted to come out here?” Richie asked. 

Suzanne was gone, so she went back inside her house.

“That’s why, Richie,” Chachi said.

“What kind of car would leave tire tracks?” Richie asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe a Jeep or something.” 

“Where does this car lead us?” Richie asked. 

Chachi kept looking at the tracks.

“They lead us all the way to the cemetery,” Chachi said. 

“The cemetery? Guess that’s what we’re going to do,” Richie said. 

“Yup. That’s what we’re going to do tonight is go to the cemetery,” Chachi said. 

“Are you crazy, Chachi? Do you have any idea what happens at the cemetery at night?” Richie asked.

“Yes, but we’re going there anyway,” he said.


	8. Chapter 8

“I need Chachi Arcola on this case, Patsy. Is he in his office?” Kylie asked her secretary. 

“No, he isn’t, Kylie. He told me he was going to Memphis with a friend of his. His friend is a newspaper reporter out in Milwaukee and he is out in Memphis, so he invited Chachi to go with him,” Patsy said. 

“Did he say how long he’ll be gone?” Kylie asked.

“Maybe a week or two, is his guess,” Patsy said. 

“I’ll call his cell phone,” Kylie said, and dialed Chachi’s number. 

Chachi heard his cell phone ring, so he stopped looking at the tire tracks and answered it.

“Hi, Ms. Roper,” Chachi said. 

“Hi, Chachi. I heard from Patsy that you were on a little vacation with a friend yours from the newspaper,” Kylie said. 

“That’s right. He’s on a business trip, to be exact,” Chachi said. 

“Oh. I have a little job for you,” Kylie said. 

“Turns out I’m already on a case out here,” Chachi said. 

“What kind of case?” Kylie asked. 

“Murder, Ms. Roper. Somebody killed Elvis Presley, so we’re trying to figure out what happened,” Chachi said. 

“Give me the details later. I want to hear what happened. I heard he had a heart attack. My father might be interested in this case. Maybe he can help. I’ll call him right now,” Kylie said and they got off the phone.


	9. Chapter 9

She called Fred at home. He was in his bedroom, reading a mystery from Jessica Fletcher when she called. There was a knock on his bedroom door. He answered the knock and saw Daphne at the door.

“Fred, Kylie’s on the phone,” she said. 

“Okay. I’ll talk to her. I haven’t heard from her in a long time,” he said, putting Jessica Fletcher’s book on the bed. 

“I haven’t read this book yet,” Daphne said, seeing the book. 

“You can read it when I’m done. It’s really good,” Fred told her. 

“Is it? I want to read it. I bet Velma’s already read it. You know her and books,” Daphne said, following him to the phone. 

“Maybe she has. We haven’t spoken to her in a while, either,” Fred said as he grabbed the phone and Daphne walked downstairs again.

“Hi, Kylie, honey. Daphne said you were on the phone,” Fred said after she said hello. 

“Dad, I just spoke to Chachi. He had to turn down one of my jobs I gave him. He’s in Memphis with that reporter Richie Cunningham. Richie invited him to go with him because he’s on a business trip for a couple of weeks. Chachi is saying he’s on another case and it turns out to be murder, Dad. He’s saying someone killed Elvis Presley,” Kylie said. 

“I never heard this news yet, sweetheart. Maybe I should go out there and help him,” Fred said. 

“Please, Dad. I would appreciate it if you did help him, and then he could do the job I want him to do,” Kylie said.

“All right. I’ll go out there right now.” 

They got off the phone and Fred started packing for Memphis.

Shaggy came out of the bathroom. He was going to blow dry his hair and saw Fred packing his things as fast as he could. 

“What’s up with the packing, Fred, buddy?” Shaggy asked. 

“Kylie called and asked me to help Chachi with a case he’s working on. It’s murder,” Fred told his friend.

“There better be no monsters, Fred. Remember all those mysteries we solved when Scooby Doo was with us?” Shaggy asked. 

“For the thousandth time do I have to tell you there are no such thing as monsters?” Fred told him. 

“Maybe there was a monster that killed that person in Memphis, Fred. Scooby and I sure believed it,” Shaggy said. 

“This murder case is on Elvis Presley,” Fred told him. 

“You mean to tell me that Elvis is dead?” Shaggy asked. 

“Right on, Shaggy. He died, but I don’t have any details. Chachi will give me the details as soon as I get there,” Fred said and headed downstairs with his suitcase.

Daphne saw Fred holding his suitcase. 

“Where the heck are you going?” Daphne asked him.

“Memphis. Kylie was saying that Chachi is out there and on another case and might need my help. This case is a murder case,” Fred told her. 

“You be careful, Fred. Who got killed this time?” Daphne asked him. 

“I heard Elvis Presley, but I’m not sure,” Fred said.

“Let us know what happened,” Daphne said. 

She offered to drive him to the airport, so he took her offer. Before Shaggy could start the dryer, Daphne called to him from the bottom of the stairs she was driving Fred to the airport and he okayed it.

Fred sat in front of the Mystery Machine while she drove to the airport. 

“If Fonzie asks for me when I’m gone, tell him what I told you and Shaggy,” Fred told her. 

“We’ll tell him,” Daphne said. 

Fred grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Chachi’s cell phone number and left a message for him, telling him he was on his way to Memphis, saying that Kylie told him about the case and asked him to pick him up at the airport.

“Did Chachi talk to you?” Daphne asked. 

“No. I just got the service, that’s all. Hope he gets the message,” Fred said. 

He was planning on finishing the book on the flight to Memphis.


	10. Chapter 10

It didn’t take Shaggy long to blow-dry his hair, so the phone rang when he finished his hair. It was Fonzie, calling for Fred.

“Hi, Arthur,” Shaggy said. 

“Is Fred there?” Fonzie asked.

“No, he isn’t. He’s heading for Memphis,” Shaggy said. 

“Darn. Well, when you talk to him again, have him call,” Fonzie said. 

“Will do.” 

When Fonzie got off with Shaggy, the phone rang again and it was Velma this time. 

“Hi, Shaggy,” she said. 

“Hi, Velma. We haven’t talked for a while,” he said. 

“I know. We heard about the Elvis Presley murder,” she said. 

“You did? Fred was guessing it was him that got murdered,” Shaggy said. 

“He’s right. Just the other night,” Velma said.

“That poor family, Shaggy. We’re his relatives. You know that, right?” Velma asked.

“Yeah. We know that. Did you know Roger Presley very well?” Shaggy asked. 

“No, Potsie and I didn’t, but he was more on the quiet side, is what I heard. Elvis was more outgoing,” Velma told Shaggy.

“When was the last time you talked to Elvis’s wife?” Shaggy asked. 

“Not for a while. Potsie and I were thinking we could have Lisa Marie over at the house for a while, since Elvis died,” Velma said. 

“Might be a good idea. What about school? Does she have to go to school?” Shaggy asked.

“We don’t know,” was Velma’s answer.

Shaggy asked about Patti and Georgia. 

“Those two. We don’t know if they know about Elvis yet. He was really close to everyone in the family, so I don’t know if they heard,” Velma said.


	11. Chapter 11

While out in the neighborhood where Elvis had died the night before, Richie thought it was a good idea to talk to the neighbors. 

“Chachi, let’s ask the neighbors if they knew anything about last night,” Richie said. 

“Good idea. We’ll leave the tracks alone for a while,” Chachi agreed.

They headed to the house that was in front of them. It looked like somebody was home.

“Let me do the talking, Richie. I want more experience as private eye,” Chachi said as they rang the bell.

“Okay. You need the experience. You solved your first case,” Richie said. 

A teenager answered the doorbell. 

“Yes? May I help you?” she asked. 

She looked to be sixteen. 

“Yes. I’m Chachi Arcola. We want to ask you a few questions about a murder case that happened out here in the middle of the street last night,” Chachi said. 

“I’ll go get my mom. She might be able to answer your questions. Are you the FBI or CIA or the police?” the teen asked. 

Chachi showed her his business card. 

“Private investigator,” he answered. 

“Mom!” she yelled.

The door closed again and opened a minute or two later. 

“Yes? My daughter, Stacy, said someone was at the door. 

Are you selling something?” the woman asked. 

“No, we’re not selling things. I want to ask about the murder that happened last night between seven and ten - thirty last night in the middle of the street,” Chachi said.

“Oh. The sheriff was asking questions, too,” the woman said. 

“We were also on the crime scene,” Richie said. 

“Who are you?” the woman asked. 

“We are Chachi Arcola and Richard Cunningham,” Chachi said.

He showed her his business card. 

“I remember you. You’re that newspaper reporter,” the woman told Richie. 

“That’s right,” Richie said. 

“You write for the Milwaukee Journal,” she said. 

“Right on.”

“Did you see the car that killed Elvis Presley last night between the times of seven o’clock and ten - thirty P. M.?” Chachi asked the woman when they were in the house. 

“No, I did not. At seven o’clock, my family and I were eating supper, so we didn’t see or hear any car out in the neighborhood. At eight, one of the younger children was going to bed because he’s really young. He’s only three,” the woman said. 

“At nine o’clock, us older ones were watching a movie we rented from Blockbuster. That lasted for the rest of the night, so we didn’t see or hear any car,” the woman told Chachi and Richie.

“Guess that’s our answer on the murder,” Richie told Chachi.

“Guess so. Let’s talk to more neighbors,” Chachi agreed. 

The woman gave Richie and Chachi the names of the neighbors they could talk to, and they thanked her and left the house. They found Sheriff Jackson and his crew when they were outside once again. They said hello. 

“I found something, Sheriff. I don’t know if you spotted it the other day or not,” Chachi said, running over to him. 

“What’s that?” the sheriff asked. 

“My friend and I were also here at the crime scene, thinking we could help out. I’m a private investigator, so I solved one case not long ago and it took three years to solve that one. Follow me. I know where I found them,” Chachi told the sheriff.

Sheriff Jackson followed Chachi to the tire tracks. 

“I don’t know who you are,” Sheriff Jackson told him.

Chachi gave out his name while they walked to the tracks. 

“Well, Mr. Arcola, why are we in this area with the crime scene tape?” Sheriff Jackson asked. 

“Well, I knew I had thought I found something yesterday when you guys were out there putting the tape out here, so that’s why I came back today and found this,” Chachi said. 

“What’s this? Tire tracks?” Sheriff Jackson asked, seeing the tracks. 

“Right. Tire tracks. They lead all the way to the cemetery,” Chachi told him. 

“The cemetery? Are you sure?” Sheriff Jackson asked, impressed with Chachi’s beginning experience as private eye. 

“Yes.”

Sheriff Jackson thought he spotted the suspect driving past him while speaking to Chachi.

“Wait here, Mr. Arcola. I think we have a suspect to arrest,” Sheriff Jackson said, seeing a blue Ford. Chachi waited while Sheriff Jackson ran to the car driving past them.

“You’re under arrest for the Elvis Presley murder, Harold Tompson,” Sheriff Jackson told the driver.

Chachi saw the look on the driver’s face like he didn’t do anything. 

“Mr. Arcola, I’ll see you again sometime tomorrow morning. I have a murder suspect to worry about,” Sheriff Jackson said, hopping into his car. 

“All right,” Chachi said. 

Mr. Thompson drove off behind the sheriff’s car and followed the sheriff to the sheriff’s office.

“Did you see the look on the driver’s face, Richie?” Chachi asked. 

“Yes, I did. I don’t know if they caught the right guy or not,” Richie said.


	12. Chapter 12

Richie’s cell phone went off. It turned out to be Fred, Fonzie’s cousin. 

“Chachi, it’s Fred. He’s coming out here and help you with the murder case.”

“Oh. Ms. Roper said she was going to call him about this, but I wasn’t going to expect him to come out here,” Chachi said. 

“You were wrong, Chachi. I guess she was thinking she didn’t want you to get hurt on this case, so he’s here to help.”

“You could be right,” Chachi agreed to what Richie was saying.

The rest of the afternoon Chachi and Richie spent asking questions about the murder to the neighbors. They got the same answer they got from Suzanne Coleman. At dinnertime, they went to a Chinese restruant. 

“Guess we’re done asking questions for now, Chachi. We’re getting no for right now. Looks like they don’t want us on their doorstep,” Richie said. 

“Guess not. Wonder how the police are doing with that driver they arrested,” Chachi said. 

“Don’t know,” Richie said.

Chachi’s cell phone rang as soon as their dinners arrived. It was Fred, saying he needed to be picked up at the airport. 

“We’ll be there as soon as we’re done eating,” Chachi told him. 

Fred okayed it and they got off the phone. 

“Fred says he’s ready to be picked up,” Chachi said.

“Okay. We’ll go there when we’re done eating,” Richie said. 

“That’s what I told him.”

Fred sat at the closest bench so Richie and Chachi could see him when they came inside the airport when they came to pick him up. Chachi and Richie were ready to go to the airport. Richie paid the bill and they drove off in Richie’s rental. Richie let Chachi go in and get Fred while he waited in the car. Fred waved Chachi over to where he was sitting. 

“Where’s Richie?” Fred asked.

“In the car. He thought it was a good idea one person stay in the car and one person go in,” Chachi said.

Fred got his suitcase and followed Chachi to the car.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Chachi asked him.

“It really doesn’t make a difference, does it?” Fred asked. 

“Guess not. You can stay in my room. Richie has his own. He didn’t want to share one with me, so I got my own.” 

“Thanks.”

Fred put his suitcase in the back of the rental car and got into the backseat of the car and he and Chachi put their seatbelts on and Richie drove off to the hotel so Fred could unpack. 

“Staying at our hotel or a different one?” Richie asked.

“He’s in my room, Richie,” Chachi said. 

“Okay. Good enough,” Richie said. 

Chachi asked if they were still going to the cemetery. “If you want to,” Richie said. 

“What’s this cemetery thing about?” Fred asked, not even sure what the two were talking about.

“You want me to tell him or you?” Richie asked. 

“I’ll give him details once we go to my room,” Chachi said.

“Okay. We can go to the cemetery any time you’re ready,” Richie said. 

“Okay. Call me on the cell,” Chachi said. 

“All right.” 

They parked in the lot in front of the hotel ten minutes later.

The hotel clerk saw Fred when they walked in and asked if he registered a room. 

“I’m with Mr. Arcola,” he said. 

“Okay,” the clerk said and they headed up the third floor in the elevator. 

“You guys haven’t given me any details on the Elvis Presley murder,” Fred told them as they headed for the rooms. 

“That’s Chachi’s job this time. You were the one who gave him the private eye job, not me,” Richie told Fred.

”That’s true,” Fred said as they watched Richie walk into his room next door. 

Chachi and Fred walked into Chachi’s room.

“Okay, detail time,” Fred said. 

So Chachi told him the whole story while Fred unpacked his suitcase. 

“Is that why you guys are going to the cemetery tonight?” Fred asked. 

“Yeah. You can come or stay,” Chachi told his cousin.

“I’ll come along. I’m never too tired of this mystery thing, Chachi,” Fred said. 

“Guess not. That’s why you’re so famous and made it on TV and in the papers,” Chachi said, remembering the stories Fred told him and Fonzie about the mysteries he and his friends had solved years and years ago.


	13. Chapter 13

While out in the cemetery that night, the three of them were looking for clues that would help them look for the killer that killed Elvis. Fred thought it was a good idea that the three of them split up to search for clues.

“I remember that while solving mysteries with the gang in the old days and we would go to cemeteries like this one, we would split up and hunt for clues. I think it is a good idea we do that. This just reminds me of the old days,” Fred told Richie and Chachi.

“You don’t have Velma, Shaggy and the other two this time, Fred. You have someone new. Me,” Chachi said. 

“Yeah, but this time it’s your case, not mine,” Fred told him. 

“I know.” 

He told the other two which directions were to go and look for the killer.

“Where are you going, Fred? What direction are you going?” Chachi asked his cousin. 

Fred told them he was the guard. 

“Oh. Good idea. We need a guard, don’t we, Rich?” Chachi asked.

“I guess so. Guards are always a good idea,” Richie said as he and Chachi left Fred behind. 

They stayed for about a couple hours in the cemetery. Richie was in the south area of the cemetery while Chachi took the west. While hunting, Richie fell into a trap door. Richie tried to get out of the trap, but had no such luck.

“Great, I’m stuck here for a while. No problem. I have my cell phone. I’ll go call our guard,” Richie said, calling Fred. 

Fred told Richie he would be right there. Chachi was on a roll on finding clues. There were a lot of ransom notes. He kept walking ahead and found a couple guns. His search was almost done when the killer who killed Elvis was right in front of Elvis spotted Chachi and tied him up and Chachi didn’t see him because the killer was right behind him and caught him and tied him up so he couldn’t get free.

He didn’t say anything to Chachi because he was afraid Chachi had found out what his name was, but Chachi had no idea who he was. Fred and Richie were both wondering how Chachi was doing on the search for the killer. Fred’s phone began to ring. He answered it, and it was killer, leaving a threatening message. 

“I hate those messages,” Richie said when Fred told him the message. 

“I do, too. Now, let’s go look for Chachi. That was the kidnapper that kidnapped Chachi,” Fred told Richie.

So they started to look for him in the rental car that they brought with them. They drove for the west area of the cemetery where Fred had told Chachi to search in.

“I want to thank you for getting me out of that trap, Fred,” Richie said.

“No problem. I’m used to traps like that. That always happened to Daphne when we were solving mysteries all the time,” he told Richie. 

“It did?” 

“Yes, but we always saved her from it,” Fred said.


	14. Chapter 14

Tim didn’t want Chachi to identify him because he thought that Fred and Richie would come out anytime and help him take him to the sheriff and lock him up. He didn’t want that, so he walked out of his hiding place as fast as he could. He left Chachi tied up. Chachi was gagged on his mouth and his hands and feet were tied up so he couldn’t get free.

Tim went to his buddies at a bar ten blocks away.

“Okay, Tim, tell us. Is that private investigator Arcola in your hair?” his friend, Logan Smithy asked.

“Yes. I tied him up. He and his newspaper buddy were following me around in the cemetery. They had that nosy Roper kid guarding the cemetery. Get them out of the cemetery,” Tim told his friend.

“Will do, Tim, but I thought Glen here had that nosy newspaper reporter trapped,” Logan said. 

“I did, Logan, but that Roper kid got him out,” Glen said.

“Drat! Think of something to get them out of here!” Tim told them. 

Tim told his friends to kill Chachi, Richie, and Fred.

“You were the one who killed that singer,” Logan told Tim. 

“Right. He deserved it,” Tim said, still laughing.

Glen and Logan drove off in Glen’s Jeep. They spotted Richie’s rental car, but it wasn’t moving. They had found Chachi and were untying him, but didn’t know that the killer’s friends were already outside of the building. Logan and Glen had their guns with them and were right behind Richie and Fred, who were busy minding Chachi and they pulled the trigger and shot Richie in the buttocks. Richie felt the bullet and fell to the ground. He couldn’t move. Chachi was loose, so he and Fred carry Richie outside the building.

Fred blamed the bad guys and they ran as fast as they could to the rental car. Richie was screaming as loud as he could because of the shooting. Fred let Chachi drive. 

“Head to the hospital, Chachi. I’m calling there right now,” Fred said, grabbing his cell phone.


	15. Chapter 15

They worried about Richie for the rest of the night. Chachi grabbed his cell phone while at the hospital and called Lori Beth back home and told her what happened. She sure didn’t like that.

Chachi and Fred were told to go home, so they did as told. They headed back to the hotel and slept for a few hours. Fred was up at eight the next morning and let Chachi sleep for a while longer. He was already downstairs when Chachi was waking up. Chachi had figured Fred was downstairs getting breakfast, so he took a shower to get cleaned up from the night before. Fred was reading the paper and it talked about the night before at the cemetery. He waved Chachi over and let Chachi get his breakfast and eat it first.

“Chachi, they’re talking about what happened in the cemetery last night,” Fred said. 

“How did it get in the paper so fast?” Chachi asked. 

“I don’t know,” was Fred’s answer.

One of the guests saw the story in the paper and saw Fred and Chachi at the next table and asked them if they were the ones who were at the cemetery.

“Yes, sir, we are. I’m the one who’s working on the Elvis Presley case,” Chachi said to the guest. 

“Oh. That must have scared you two like crazy,” his girlfriend said. 

“Well, I’m used to it. It reminded me of the good old days when Scooby Doo helped us solve mysteries,” Fred told the engaged couple. 

“You’re Fred Roper, aren’t you? The private eye we’ve heard so much about? Where’s the other one we read about in the paper?” the girl Louise asked.

“In the hospital. He was shot last night,” Chachi said.

“Sorry to hear that. That happens,” the young man Jasper said.


	16. Chapter 16

While in the Graceland neighborhood that morning, Chachi told Fred that it was a good idea to drop in and tell Priscilla that they were sorry that Elvis had died.

“Good idea, Chachi. Let’s do that now,” Fred said.

They drove over to Graceland. They parked the rental in the driveway behind Elvis’s Chevrolet and headed to the door. Chachi let Fred ring the bell. Lisa Marie answered the door.

“Is your mother home?” Chachi asked her. 

“Yes, sir. One minute,” Lisa Marie told him. 

She left the door closed. 

“Mom, there are two men at the door for you,” they heard her say to Priscilla. 

“Who are the two men, Lisa Marie?” Priscilla asked. 

“I don’t know,” Lisa Marie said. 

“I’ll deal with them.”

Priscilla answered the door. 

“Mrs. Presley, we want to tell you how sorry we are about Elvis,” Fred said. 

“Thank you, but I have no idea who you two men are,” Priscilla said, with tears still coming down her face.

She looked like she had been crying nonstop since the day she had gotten the news from the police, Fred suspected. 

“If there’s anything we can do, we’d be happy to help,” Fred said. 

“Thank you, but no,” she said. 

“We are working on Elvis’s murder,” Chachi said.

“You’re not with the police, are you?” Priscilla asked.

“No. We don’t live here, Mrs. Presley,” Fred said.

She let Fred and Chachi into the house. 

“Won’t you two mind sitting down?” Priscilla asked.

“Thank you,” Fred said and they sat on the couch and in one of Elvis’s favorite chairs. 

Priscilla started crying again when Fred sat in one of Elvis’s favorite chairs. 

“That hasn’t been sat in since the day he died,” she said, crying harder than before. 

“If you don’t mind, Mrs. Presley, we’ll introduce ourselves. I’m Fred Roper, and he’s Chachi Arcola,” Fred said. 

“There was another one of you, isn’t there?” Priscilla asked. 

“Yes, but he’s in the hospital because he got shot last night in the cemetery,” Chachi told her, thinking of Richie.

“It’s in today’s newspaper. The front page,” Fred told Priscilla. 

“I think I have heard of you, Mr. Roper. You’re that investigator, right?” Priscilla asked.

“I was, but I’m retired. He took my job when I retired, so he took over. I gave him the job, so that’s why he’s working on Elvis’s murder,” Fred explained. 

“Oh. If you never retired, you would be the one working on it, right?”

“Right, Mrs. Presley,” Fred said. 

“Let me ask you something, Mrs. Presley. Why was Elvis out at the time of his death?” Chachi asked.

“Because I thought it was a good idea he get a walk before it got too dark, so that’s why he was out. I didn’t know he would be gone that many hours,” Priscilla said.

“The police were saying he was coming home when he was killed,” Chachi said.

“You mean he didn’t have a second heart attack?” Priscilla asked. “We don’t know what happened, Mrs. Presley. There weren’t any witnesses to tell what happened. He was found dead in the middle of the street on Garfield Avenue,” Chachi said. 

“I know that street, Mr. Arcola. Elvis’s family isn’t going to like this news when they hear he’s dead. Two of his cousins died earlier this year one week apart. One died of asthma and the other one died crying because of him. They are really close to Elvis. I bet you have seen Coach Presley on TV every year,” Priscilla said. 

“Sure have, Mrs. Presley. We were wondering why he didn’t coach three years,” Chachi said. 

“He was sick with asthma, that’s why,” she said.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about, Mr. Arcola,” Priscilla said.

“What’s that?” Chachi asked. 

“I’ve thought this over and over several times. Since Elvis’s two living cousins don’t know anything about his death, can you tell them for me? I can’t do it. It’s too hard to tell them on my own,” Priscilla said. 

Fred and Chachi talked it over with their eyes. 

“Sure. I’ll tell them for you,” Chachi told her.

“Thank you, Mr. Arcola. I’ll pay you. How much do you pay?” Priscilla asked. 

“I’ll tell you my fee once the job’s done,” Chachi said.

“Sounds fair enough. Elvis and his cousins were really close. I don’t want to hurt them again,” Priscilla said. 

“What are their names?” Fred asked.

“They are girls, Mr. Arcola. Their names are Patti Jones and Georgia Wilson. They are married and have children of their own, but their children are married also.” 

Priscilla gave Chachi Patti and Eric’s address and phone number in Denver, Colorado and Georgia and Al’s phone number and address as well in Santa Barbara, California. 

“Thank you for doing this for me, Mr. Arcola,” Priscilla told Chachi as they stood up to leave. 

“No problem. A job’s a job, Mrs. Presley,” Chachi said, looking at the numbers of the addresses and phone numbers in California and Colorado.

Fred’s cell phone rang when they left Graceland. It was Richie, calling from the hospital. 

“We’ll be over there in a few minutes,” Chachi heard Fred say on the phone. 

He watched Fred put the cell phone away in his pocket. 

“Who was that?” Chachi asked him. 

“Richie. Let’s head over to the hospital,” Fred told his cousin. 

So they headed over there and asked for Richie’s room number. They headed for the room where Richie was staying. Fred let Chachi open the door and let them into the room where Richie was staying.

They found him watching TV. Richie wasn’t paying much attention to the program, but his mind was on the shooting from the night before. 

“How are you doing, Richie?” Chachi asked when Fred closed the door behind themselves. 

“That’s why I called, guys,” Richie told them as they sat down in the chairs near the bed. 

“When are you getting out of here?” Fred wanted to know. 

“That’s why I called the cell, Fred. When you guys took me here last night, they found it impossible to get the bullet out because it’s too big,” Richie said. 

“What are they going to do now?” Chahci asked. 

“I don’t know. You guys have to go on without me on this one,” Richie said. 

“Looks like it, Richie. We drove by Graceland just now to tell Mrs. Presley how sorry we were about Elvis. She didn’t look so good. You should have seen her face,” Fred told him.

“You know what she did, Richie?” Chachi asked his friend. 

“What’s that?” Richie asked, about to scream again for the thousandth time that day since the shooting. 

“Mrs. Presley hired me to tell Elvis’s female cousins what happened to Elvis,” Chachi said. 

“A job is a job, Chachi. Go ahead and tell them,” Richie told him. 

He opened his mouth again and started screaming as loud as he could so the nurses or doctors could hear him. 

“How big was the bullet, Richie?” Chachi asked him.

“They haven’t told me, so I don’t know,” Richie said, still screaming in between answers his friends were asking him.

Richie told Chachi that he go call Fonzie and have Fonzie go along with him while he spread news out to Elvis’s cousins about Elvis’s murder.

“Fonzie gave you that advice on your first case not to give up, Chachi. At least him go with you on one trip or both or how many relatives Elvis has. That’s the least you can do for Fonzie, since he gave you the advice,” Richie suggested. 

“That does sound like a good idea, Richie, but I’ll think about it,” Chachi said. 

They left as soon as a nurse came in to see what was wrong with Richie because he had been screaming for a couple minutes.

“Let’s do it this way, Chachi, because I have an idea,” Fred said. 

“What’s your idea?” Chachi asked his older cousin.

“You can fly out to California and Colorado while I stay here and work on this case in your absence. How about that? It wouldn’t take you that long if you flew out there by yourself. I don’t think it was a good idea what Richie told you about Fonzie. He might be busy working,” Fred said. 

“He could be busy,” Chachi said. 

They drove back to the hotel and Chachi called for a ticket to California and Colorado that afternoon.

“I leave in a couple hours, Fred, so I can stay here in the hotel until then,” Chachi said. 

“I’ll let you know what’s going on while you’re gone with the murder,” Fred said. 

“Okay. Good idea. I want to know if you found anything with the people you talk to about that night he died,” Chachi said.


	17. Chapter 17

The two hours had passed and Chachi was on the plane to Colorado to talk to Patti and her husband. He took a rental car to the Jones’s house. He had the address and phone number that Priscilla gave him, but first he got out his cell phone and dialed their phone number.

He heard a woman’s voice on the other end. It was Patti that answered the phone. 

“Hello?” she said on the third ring. 

“Is this Mrs. Jones?” Chachi asked.

“Yes, this is Mrs. Jones. Who is this?” Patti asked, not sure who he was. 

“I am Chachi Arcola. I would like to speak to you and your family right away. My client sent me to talk to you,” Chachi said. 

She didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“Your client sent you? What are you talking about?” she asked, not knowing one word he was saying.

“May I have the directions to your place, Mrs. Jones? This is urgent,” Chachi said. 

“All right, if you wish to speak to us,” Patti said, “but I still don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about.” 

She gave him the directions to her house and they got off the phone.

“Eric, honey, I got this weird phone call from a strange man and he was saying his client sent him out here and he wants to talk to us right away and it’s urgent,” Patti said. 

“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” Eric asked. 

“No, I don’t, but we’ll find out once he arrives,” Patti said. 

Chachi arrived at the house within twelve minutes. He parked behind Eric’s car, which was a white Jeep. He locked his car and headed for the door. He rang the bell before checking to see if he was at the right address, which he was. Eric answered the door. 

“Hi. I must have gotten the wrong address. This isn’t the Jones residence, is it?” Chachi asked. 

“Yes, this is the Jones residence,” Eric told him.

“I spoke to a woman on the phone,” Chachi said. “That was my wife. I’m her husband. Who are you and why are you here?” Eric asked. 

Chachi got out one of his business cards and handed it to Eric. 

“I’m Chachi Arcola, private investigator. My client sent me here to talk to you and your wife about some news,” Chachi said. 

“All right,” Eric said, letting him into the house.

“Patti, sweetheart, is this the man you spoke to on the phone? He says he’s a private investigator and his client sent him out here to give us some news,” Eric said. 

“A private investigator? Who is your client?” Patti asked. 

“That’s between the two of us, Mrs. Jones,” Chachi told her.

“I’m not letting you talk until I find out who your client is and why they gave you our phone number and address,” Patti demanded. 

Chachi thought it was going to take forever to tell them about Elvis. Chachi thought it was best to answer her question.

“Okay, if you want to know who my client is, it is Priscilla Presley,” Chachi said. 

“Why does she need a private investigator for? The family’s doing fine right now, aren’t they?” Eric asked.

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Jones,” Chachi said.

“The reason Priscilla sent me is because she didn’t know how to tell you two. You might know this or might not, but she didn’t know how to tell you because she didn’t know how you would react to the news,” Chachi said.

“What kind of news is this?” Patti asked him. 

“Well, my cousin and I dropped by Graceland just yesterday because we wanted to tell her something, and she didn’t look so great. Lisa Marie hasn’t been going to school, either,” Chachi said. 

“Eric, do you know what is going on here?” Patti asked, thinking what Chachi was going to say. 

“Did Elvis have a second heart attack, Mr. Arcola? Is that why Priscilla sent you out here?” Patti asked, getting worried again.

“I don’t know the answer to that question, Mrs. Jones. This is going to shock you two. You two will not see or talk to Elvis again for the rest of your lives because he got murdered two nights ago,” Chachi said. 

“Murdered! What? How?” Patti asked. 

“Reckless driving, Mrs. Jones. A reckless driver was in the same neighborhood as Elvis was, and somehow killed him. We’re working on the case right now. Someone called in the murder to the police. Elvis was found dead in the middle of the road, so that’s the story so far,” Chachi said. 

“My sister and I didn’t want three people dead in one year, Mr. Arcola. We wanted Elvis to live long enough to see Lisa Marie graduate from high school and college and get married,” Patti said, with tears coming down her face.

“I’m really sorry about Elvis, Mr. and Mrs. Jones,” Chachi said. 

“Sorry isn’t enough when there are three people dead in one year, Mr. Arcola. Please leave,” Patti told Chachi. 

He apologized for Elvis one more time to Patti and Eric and left the house. When Chachi closed the door behind himself, he heard Patti’s tears when they reached the door. 

“That went well,” Chachi said to himself. 

He wasn’t so sure how the other relative would take the news. He was going to tell her the next day.


	18. Chapter 18

Richie called Fred from the hospital at seven o’clock that evening, saying that the doctors let him leave the hospital. 

“Okay. I’ll be there,” Fred said and they hung up the phone. 

Fred entered Richie’s room within fifteen minutes.

“Are you ready to leave, Richard?” Fred asked. 

“Yes, Fred. They gave me pain killers,” Richie said and they checked out of the hospital. 

“What would Fonzie do when he hears about this?” Fred asked, wondering about his cousin. 

“I never thought about that, Fred. He wouldn’t like that, that’s for sure,” Richie said, knowing Fonzie. 

“What about your parents? Do they know about this?” Fred asked, also wondering.

“No, I haven’t told them yet. They also wouldn’t like it. They’ll worry big time,” Richie told Fred.

They were back in the hotel within fifteen minutes.

“Where’s Chachi?” Richie asked. 

“He had a job to do, Richard. He has a client now. I forgot to mention that,” Fred told Richie. 

“Who’s this client?” Richie wanted to know. 

“You’ll never guess in a million years,” Fred said, who already knew who the client was that hired Chachi for the case. 

“I can’t guess this one, Fred. Just tell me,” Richie said as he unlocked his door.

“Priscilla Presley,” Fred said. 

Richie started laughing. 

“Who in the world would hire him to do such a job?” Richie asked. 

“You don’t know what his job is, Richard. His job is to tell Elvis’s living relatives about Elvis’s death. She couldn’t do it herself, so she hired Chachi,” Fred said.

Richie was still laughing about the job.

“Your first clients were Sonny and Cher Bono. Look at that job you got, Fred. So he got even with you,” Richie said, still laughing. 

“I’m sure he did. I would never get anyone like Priscilla for a client,” Fred said. 

Fred decided to stay with Richie in his room for a couple hours before he went to bed that night. 

“I’ll keep you company for a while, Richard,” Fred said. 

“I might not be in a good mood since that shooting, Fred. You know, the pain,” he said. 

“That’s okay. I’ll stay anyway. Why don’t you call Fonz and tell him about it? He might like a phone call,” Fred suggested. 

“I’m not in the mood for talking right now, Fred. That includes you,” Richie said.

“Okay. I’ll be in my room next door,” he said.

“All right. I might not even need you. I just might go right to sleep, if I’m lucky,” Richie said as he watched Fred head out the door.

Richie got into his pajamas after taking a shower and hopped into bed. He reached for the phone, thinking Fred had a point by making a phone call to Fonzie. He dialed Fonzie’s phone number. Fonzie was home, so he answered the phone. He wasn’t expecting any phone calls, so he picked up the phone. He heard Richie’s voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hey, Cunningham,” Fonzie said. 

“Hi, Fonzie,” Richie said.

“I haven’t heard from you for a while. When are you coming home from Memphis, Cunningham? Is business done yet out there?” Fonzie asked. 

“Almost, Fonzie, almost. There’s something I need to talk about with you,” Richie told his friend. 

“What is it, Cunningham? Do I need to give out any advice?” Fonzie asked. 

“I don’t know until I tell you, Fonz,” he said.

Fonzie was all ears on what Richie had to tell him. Richie told Fonzie about his getting shot into the buttocks and just got out of the hospital thirty minutes ago.

“Cunningham, who shot you?” Fonzie asked when Richie finished his story. 

“I don’t know, Fonzie. I didn’t get a look at the person because Fred and I were busy untying Chachi because he was tied up,” Richie said. 

“I want to talk to Fred about this shotgun business you’re talking about. Is he in your room, Cunningham?” Fonzie asked. 

“No, he isn’t, Fonz. He’s in the room next - door. He’s in Chachi’s room. I’ll give you their room number so you can talk to him,” Richie said, giving Fonzie Chachi and Fred’s room number of the hotel.

Fonzie wrote it down while Richie give him the number. 

“What did the doctors do to you at the hospital, Cunningham? Did they get the bullet out?” Fonzie asked.

“That’s what I’m telling you now, Fonz. I have to live with it because the doctors can’t get it out, so they gave me pain killers. They said I have to tell my doctor back home what happened,” Richie said.

“Whoever shot that bullet in you, Cunningham, I’m gonna kill him!” Fonzie said. 

“You can’t, Fonzie. I don’t know who the guy is,” Richie said. 

They talked for a while longer, then Richie told Fonzie he wanted to go to sleep. 

“All right, Cunningham. I’ll give Fred a call,” Fonzie said as they said good - bye. 

Richie hung up first. Fonzie dialed Fred and Chachi’s hotel room number and heard the phone ring two times before someone picked up the phone.

Richie got out of bed for the last time for a while that night and found the pain killers and took a couple of them and took them with water and hopped into bed and fell asleep for a while that night. He turned the light out as soon as he got into bed. Fred and Fonzie talked for about an hour that night and Fred gave Fonzie all the details on the gunshot. The next morning, which was Tuesday, Richie didn’t feel like going out, so he stayed inside the hotel for a change, after being shot in the buttocks. He spent the morning on the phone with his friends back home. He called Ralph first and told him what happened since he arrived in Memphis. 

“You mean to tell me you got shot?” Ralph asked.

“Yeah, Ralph. I can’t tell you who shot me because I didn’t look to find out. My back was faced the man with the gun, so that’s why I don’t know who he was,” Richie said. 

“Oh. What were you doing when he shot you in the butt?” Ralph asked.

Richie told him. 

“Oh. Where is Chachi now?” Ralph asked. 

“Fred was telling me that he is in Colorado and California, telling Elvis’s living relatives about Elvis’s death. I wonder how that’s going. Fred was telling me that Chachi has a client and guess who it is,” Richie said, laughing again.

“Who? I don’t have a clue,” Ralph said.

“Priscilla Presley, Elvis’s wife,” Richie said, laughing harder than he did the first time. 

“Ralph, could you hold for a minute?” Richie asked.

“Sure. I’ll hold.” 

“I’m feeling the pain again.” 

Richie put the phone down for a while and went to the sink that was right when you walk into the room and found the pain killers and took another couple of them and swallowed them.

He got back on the bed and talked to Ralph again.

“I’m back, Ralph. I feel a little better now,” Richie said. 

They talked for a while longer, and then Richie talked to Potsie after hanging up with Ralph. Potsie was home, so he talked to Richie. He was happy to speak to Richie after such a long time. They got to catch up on the latest news with each other. 

“Potsie, you go first,” Richie said. 

Before they could start talking, Richie heard a knock at his door. 

“Potsie, could you hold on for a minute? There’s a knock at the door,” Richie said. 

He was in clothes, so he put the phone down and answered the door. The maid was there, wanting to clean the room. 

“One minute, ma’am, then you clean the room,” Richie told her. 

He closed the door again and told Potsie he would call back later that day and the maid wanted to clean the room.


	19. Chapter 19

Fred was out of the hotel, so he didn’t want to bother Richie, so he figured Richie wanted to be alone for a while that day, so he decided to help Chachi with the case. Chachi came back early that morning from California. Fred picked him up from the airport and wanted to hear everything, so Chachi did tell everything. Fonzie was over at the Cunninghams’ house for lunch that afternoon. 

“Arthur, have you heard from Richard lately?” Mrs. Cunningham asked. 

The Whitehorses were over for lunch also. 

“I talked to Richie last night, Mrs. C.,” he said.

“How is Richie doing, Fonzie? Do you know when he’ll be coming home from the trip he’s doing?” Mr. Cunningham asked. 

“He didn’t say, Mr. C. He did give me some news, but I don’t want to say it in front of the ladies,” Fonzie told Howard. 

“Okay, Fonzie. You can tell me when we’re done eating,” Howard said. 

“Has Lori Beth spoken to Richie these days?” Mrs. Cunningham asked. 

“I don’t know, Marion,” Howard said. 

Richie was thinking of going home that afternoon to Milwaukee. He called Fred on his cell phone, telling him he was going home to Milwaukee. 

“Are you sure you want to go home and not find out who killed Elvis?” Fred asked.

“I’m sure I want to go home, Fred. This is too much pain I’m suffering,” Richie said. 

“All right. Do whatever’s right for you, Richard. Fonzie said you two talked last night,” Fred said. 

“We did. He didn’t like what happened to me,” Richie said. 

“He sure didn’t. That’s why he ended up calling me for details on the gunshot, Richard. He wanted to kill the guy who shot you and whoever tied up Chachi,” Fred said, “but he’s happy nothing happened to me.”

“You’re lucky nothing happened to you yet,” Richie said. 

“We’ll see what happens,” Fred said.

Fred told Chachi he was going to drive Richie to the airport after lunch. 

“Okay. I’ll stay here,” Chachi said. 

“Richie, are you sure you don’t want to stay until the end and find out who Elvis’s killer really is and why he did it? This could be an article for your column,” Chachi said.

“Come on, Richard. Listen to Chachi. Hang around a while longer,” Fred begged his friend. 

Richie thought about it a while longer, listening to Fred and Chachi’s begging.

“I know you two want me to stay and write this up for my column, but this is just too painful for what happened to me, so I’m going to turn this down and let some other reporter write up the murder. I can’t hang around any longer. Sorry, guys,” Richie told them.

They kept begging him to stay until noontime, but he stuck with his choice. 

“Sorry, but my mind’s made up, you guys. My mind’s not changing,” Richie said, suitcase in hand. 

He knew Fonzie well, and knew Fonzie would want him to do the same thing Chachi and Fred were trying to talk him into staying until Elvis’s murder was solved. He was listening to Fonzie’s advice in his head and thought about it, so he made up his mind that he was really going back to Milwaukee. 

“Fred, drive me to the airport now, please,” Richie told Fred. 

The begging was silent when they heard the word airport. Both Chachi and Fred were in the car with Richie. 

“Richie, you need to listen to Fonzie more,” Fred told him. 

“I know, but this time you can’t when you have a bullet stuck inside you for the rest of your life,” Richie said.


	20. Chapter 20

Fonzie and Howard sat in the living room while Marion took the dishes from the table when everyone finished eating lunch so Fonzie could tell Howard what Richie told Fonzie the night before. 

“Mr. C., you won’t like what’s going to happen what I’m telling you about Richie,” Fonzie said. 

“What is it I’m not going to like, Fonzie?” Howard asked. 

Koko was in the conversation, but was quiet. Howard asked Koko to leave so he could have the talk with Fonzie alone, so Koko did as told and joined his wife and Marion in the kitchen. 

“They’re going to talk about your son, Marion,” Koko said.

“What kind of news is Arthur going to tell Howard?” Mrs. Cunningham wanted to know. 

“I don’t know, Marion, but Arthur was saying that it’s not good,” Koko said.

Joanie came into the house with her friend, Jenny a couple minutes later. 

“Hi, Mom,” Joanie said. 

“Hi, Joanie, Jenny,” Mrs. Cunningham said. 

Joanie said hello to Koko and Mona. 

“Jenny, these are Mom and Dad’s new neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Whitehorse,” Joanie said, introducing Jenny to them. 

“You’re Native American? Wow! I’ve never met anyone that’s Native American before,” Jenny said, interested. 

“Now you have, Jenny. Fonzie’s here,” Joanie said.

“Where is he?” Jenny asked. 

“I don’t know,” Joanie said. 

“Arthur’s having a private conversation with your father about Richard, Joanie, so leave them alone for a little bit longer,” Mrs. Cunningham said. 

“Why is it about Richie?” Joanie asked.

“We don’t know anything yet, Joanie. Go see if they’re done talking,” Mrs. Cunningham told her daughter.

Joanie peeked through the kitchen door and saw they were still talking. 

“They’re still talking, Mom. I guess we can’t go through the living room, can we?” Joanie asked.

“Joanie, will you mind listening to the conversation and find out what your father and Arthur are talking about?” Mrs. Cunningham asked. 

“You said it was about Richie.” 

“It is, Joanie, dear, but I want to know a little about it,” Marion said. 

Joanie opened the door a little without Howard and Fonzie knowing anyone was listening in on the conversation.

“Well, Fonzie, what was Richie doing when the gunshot happened?” Joanie heard Mr. Cunningham ask. 

“He was saying he and Fred Roper were untying Chachi because Chachi got tied up somehow and he was gagged, and his back was faced to the person with the gun, so he didn’t have a look who shot the trigger,” Fonzie said. 

Joanie listened a little bit longer because she had no idea what they were talking about.

“Then what happened after Chachi got free, Fonzie?” Howard asked. 

“Then the bullet aimed at Richie in the buttocks,” Fonzie said. 

“So that’s the story, Fonzie? Is that what he told you?” Howard asked. 

“Yes, Mr. C. That’s what Richie told me,” Fonzie said.

There was a knock at the front door. It was Lori Beth with Richie Junior and Sarah. She got a phone call from Richie an hour ago, wanting a ride home. 

“Hi, Howard, Fonzie. Howard, would you mind watching Richie and Sarah for a while? Richie called from the airport an hour ago and he isn’t feeling so hot since he got shot in the you - know - where,” Lori Beth said.

“Why don’t you call the doctor right now and see what he can do about that, Lori Beth? We don’t want Richie living with a bullet for the rest of his life,” Howard said.

“Richie says he has to, Mr. C. They tried to take it out, but can’t,” Fonzie said.

“Mom, you won’t believe what they were talking about out there. Fonzie was telling Dad that Richie got shot in the butt,” Joanie whispered to Marion.

“Oh, dear. Richard. Did he die?” Marion asked her daughter. 

“No, Mom. Lori Beth just arrived with Richie Junior and Sarah. She’s going to pick up Richie at the airport,” Joanie said.


	21. Chapter 21

Lori Beth made the phone call to the doctor’s office on her way to the airport and got an appointment for Richie at eight - thirty the next morning. She told the story to the doctor’s office what happened, but said that Richie told her that he did try to get the bullet out at the Memphis Hospital in Memphis, but they couldn’t get it out.

“How big is the bullet, Mrs. Cunningham?” the doctor wanted to know.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him yet. I’m picking him up at the airport right now, so that’s your job to find out tomorrow,” Lori Beth told the doctor as they got off the phone. 

Lori Beth got Richie’s suitcase and carried it for him, knowing he probably wouldn’t want to carry it himself. He saw Lori Beth looking for him. 

“I’m over here, Lori Beth,” he said, waving her over to where he was waiting. 

“Richie, your father knows what happened about the gunshot. He’s worried,” Lori Beth told her husband.

“Who told him? You?” Richie asked. 

“I never told your parents anything about the gunshot. Fonzie probably told them,” Lori Beth guessed.

“Could be. I was going to tell them myself. Where are Richie Junior and Sarah?” he asked as they walked to the car, but he was slower than she.

“They’re at your parents’ house. We’ll leave them there for tonight. You have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning at eight - thirty about that bullet of yours,” Lori Beth told him. 

“The doctor out in Memphis suggested I tell the doctor about that,” Richie said.

Richie was thinking of trying to talk to Potsie that night, since they didn’t get to talk earlier. Potsie was wondering why Richie didn’t talk to him earlier.

“Velma, I was going to talk to Richie earlier, but he had to leave. The maid was coming into the room, so that’s why we had to get off so soon. Maybe I should try calling his cell,” Potsie said. 

“Leave him alone until he calls you back,” Velma suggested.

Potsie didn’t hear what she said, so he picked up the phone and called Richie on the cell phone. Richie let the phone go, so he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. He was too painful to talk even for a minute. He did hear the cell phone ring, but let it ring and take the voice mail. Potsie left a message and got off the phone.


	22. Chapter 22

Fred and Chachi were busy talking to more people all over the neighborhoods from Graceland to Garfield Avenue, asking questions about the murder of Elvis Presley, but there were still no witnesses to the murder. Even the sheriff was getting no luck.

Fred thought of something.

“I think I solved the case,” Fred said.

“How?” the sheriff asked.

Chachi was surprised that his cousin thought the case was closed before he himself did.

“Well, the tire tracks went up to the cemetery, right?”

Fred watched as Chachi nodded his head.

“Go on, Fred,” Chachi said.

He wanted to see what Fred’s thought was.

“Well, the tire tracks ended at the cemetery. The suspect probably planned this whole thing out to scare Chachi off the case and had Richie on painkillers. Especially if this plan was meant for myself and the gang, the suspect was wrong. Chachi ended up falling right into it.

“It could be the same bullet that caused Richie to be on painkillers the rest of his life.”

Chachi thought he could see where Fred’s theory was going.

“I think you might be right,” Chachi agreed.

“But we still don’t know who this character could be.”

“Not yet, we don’t, Sheriff. Do you know anyone who would have an Oregon license plate?” Fred asked.

“No.”

Chachi spoke up.

“If I remember right, I thought I saw the description of the suspect.”

“What did he look like?” the sheriff asked.

“I think he was in his late thirties, driving in with a Oregon license plate with the numbers and letters we saw. I don’t know the weight and height or birthdate, but I did notice he looked like he was divorced.”

“Thank you for the details, Mr. Arcola. We’ll see what we can come up with,” Sheriff Jackson said.

“Thanks for your thoughts, Fred.”

“No problem.”

Then Sheriff Jackson got into the police car and drove off. Chachi hoped he and Fred were right on having this case come to an end. At least the details helped the police.

Back in the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Jackson shared the newest details on the crime. Everyone loved Chachi and Fred’s ideas but didn’t know themselves if it would fit the description. Of course the sheriff had a picture of a suspect to the crime so he pulled that off the board and took out his notes about the license plate. He thought this person looked familiar.

“I think Fred and Chachi were right,” Sheriff Jackson said to himself.

“What did you say, Sheriff?” the receptionist asked.

She had long blonde hair with light brown eyes. Pretty for her age, which was mid twenties.

“I was just seeing that Fred Jones and Chachi Arcola are right about their thoughts on this case. I think Mr. Arcola’s description matches.”

Sheriff Jackson saw the name of the suspect’s picture was Timothy Blake. Chachi was right he thought to himself. Tim was in his late thirties the way Chachi described it.

Later that afternoon Chachi and Fred were in Fred’s room, Fred played the message from Sheriff Jackson.

“Nice going, Fred,” Chachi said.

“I know. Now mystery is solved but we still need to come up with a way to capture him.”

“Why don’t we tell Richie this news? I think he’d be proud.”

“We’ll get to him in a minute or so.”

Chachi said nothing more. It looked like Fred was going to save the message from Sheriff Jackson so Richie could hear it for himself.

Chachi opened the hotel room door and there was not a sign of any noise coming from Richie. If Richie was asleep, it would be a good way to send the message to Richie’s cell phone so he would see the message once he woke up.

As Chachi had predicted, Richie was asleep on one of the two beds in his hotel. He did not hear one knock.

The knock came from Chachi.

“I think he is asleep, Fred.”

“Sounds like it. I’ll just send the message to his phone then.”

“Good idea,” Chachi agreed.

Chachi watched as Fred opened his cell phone and send the message to Richie.

Then he slammed his phone shut. Chachi and Fred both thought it would not make any sense to have dinner in the hotel, so they went out. Fred did leave a message to Richie to tell him where they were going.

After that he and Fred hopped into the rental Chachi took.

About fifteen minutes later there was still nothing from Richie. Both Fred and Chachi figured Richie was asleep for the rest of the night so he probably didn’t hear the cell phone go off.


End file.
